Dear Diary, Forever Love
by MissRandumb
Summary: During New Moon. Charlie sent Bella to a therapist who gave her a journal to write her thoughts in.
1. January 3

_Ok, hi. I can't seem to get off the angsty track, sorry. But I decided, what the heck, mine as wll. Anyways, this is in New Moon. What would happen if, instead of getting therapy from Jacob Black (because I despise him), Charlie had actually took Bella to a therapist, who had her write her thoughts in short journal entries._

_I appoligize if it's compeltely horrid, and I'm sure it'll be OOC, but oh well. I tried._

_P.S. I am also sorry for any grammar/ spelling mistakes. I type too fast._

_P.S.S. I know I haven't updated MoonStruck in a long time, but I think I'm going to delete it. I sucks really badly anyways._

_Disclaimer: If I was actually Stephanie Meyer, I wouldn't be spending all my free time on fanfiction, sorry. I wish I was her though, because then I could own Edward. _

_**January 3**__**rd**_

They told me to write in here, a normal everyday journal. It has a lock and a key that I hid away, so know one will know my thoughts, as it should be. _Forever._

Charlie – my father – sent me to a therapist. Finally, after those dredging months of monotony and numbness, he actually followed up with his threats.

I don't really care though; I don't have enough in me to care.

My therapist's name is Dr. Smiley, stupid right? It's not his real last name. At least I hope not – not that I can really hope.

He told me that I could write in these pages my thoughts, dreams, hopes, goals, wonders. Anything. He said he wouldn't read it - no one would - it was for my eyes only.

Not that they'd understand my pain. It's so painful that I can't even feel it anymore. It's become a part of me, seeping into my pores, my flesh, and my veins. Coursing to my heart, so freezing cold, like ice.

They couldn't understand, they all just thought I was over-reacting, that it was a stupid teenage romance based on lust instead of love. I feel like screaming _'You don't understand me! You never will!' _but that would prove nothing, only that I'm being melodramatic, like all other teens.

There are no stars in the sky tonight, it's dark. The clouds are suppressing everything, the heat, the light, and any other forms of life out there. Suppressing me and my emotions, holding them inside me tightly. It feels so claustrophobic, even more so now than ever.

Sometimes I don't even know who I am anymore. There was old Bella, one who knew nothing about the creatures of myth, one who lived a boring life. Then _his _Bella, fearless and brave, hopelessly and recklessly in love. Now what Bella am I, am I even Bella anymore?

This is pointless, I'm just wondering around in circles, orbiting around nothing. This journal is pointless, _everything is pointless. _

They're trying to piece me together like a puzzle, thinking all my edges will line up evenly and connect, become whole again. But what if my pieces were broken, shredded, incinerated?

How can you put a puzzle together with the center missing, and the outside rim is torn, the parts are ripped into unrecognizable bits?

How many times do you have to shove them together until they all turn to dust?

**_Yes, the chapters are short. Again, sorry. But they're SHORT journal entries that I write when I have time and/ or are bored/ have nothing better to do._**

**_- Mickey.. :D_**


	2. January 10

_Hi. Sup. Yo._

_Anywho... here's another 'chapter'. It's short, really short... but oh well. I have another comin' in a couple minutes._

_I lose interest in writting my stories fast... so reviews help, I guess. I'm not going to go all psycho chic and demand for them. Flaming is fine, critisism is fine, comments are fine. Tell me if I suck or not, help me become a better writter. :)_

_Disclaimer: I'd write one, but my head hurts. So be creative. And I'm married to 3 book characters, but I still don't own them. Mrs. Edward Cullen, Mrs. Jasper Whitlock, and Mrs. Kaname from Vampire Knight manga. Whoot-whoot! :D_

_**January 10**__**th**_

Today Mike Newton talked to me.

I'm not exactly sure what about, I believe he was babbling. He kept nervously stumbling over his words, fidgeting, and looking anywhere but me.

I wasn't paying attention though. I caught bits and pieces, something along the lines of _"…are you?... fine…soccer team… movie theater with Jessica… come with us?"_

I had stared at him blankly. He eventually left me alone, and I went back to staring at the apple on my lunch tray. Sighing, I had avoided scornful and pitying gazes and stared up at the yellowed ceiling.

When will this all end?

When did I stop being human?

_He_ may have not wanted me to be a vampire, but that didn't stop me from becoming _something. _A zombie maybe, or an ice queen.

Tomorrow I have another appointment, Charlie is so desperate to get me better that he signed me up for as many sessions as he could be allowed in a week.

Poor Charlie, I wish I could do better for him. I'm trying so hard, but it _hurts _to feel emotion, it _hurts_ to move, it _hurts _to think.

It may sound vain but _why me? _

**_Rawr. Gosh, that IS short! Oh well._**

**_- Mickey.. :D_**


	3. January 11

_And another. WHOOOO._

_Right, well. Angsty._

_Sorry if this story makes you all suicidal or something._

_For a happy person, I sure write a lot of depressing things. Art, stories, poems... bah._

_Disclaimer: If you show signs of depression from reading this story, please contact a therapist. But make sure his name is NOT Dr. Smiley. Sue me and I shall eatcha brains. Rawr._

_**January 11**__**th**_

As Dr. Smiley is talking about the wonders of life and his past clients, seeming immensely proud of himself for helping all his former patients.

He thinks that I'll be another easy conquest, but I'll never get better. I can barely imagine my future, tomorrow doesn't ever seem to be coming.

"… _and I know you think that this Edward guy was important, but he left. He broke up with you and he's gone. I know it's blunt, but it's true. Once you accept that, then you can move on. You can't pretend he'll be there when you wake up, when you enter school, because he won't be. He's not here. I know you may want to keep dreaming, but for you to truly let go, you have to come back to reality…" _his voice broke into my conscious

Now that _hurt, _deeply. How could I come back to reality when it hurts _so much?_ He has no idea of the pain I feel, it's impossible to picture, too great to even know.

I pity anyone who has experienced this magnitude of agony, but this 'Dr. Smiley' had no idea, he thinks he does, but he doesn't.

"_Now, Miss Swan, why don't you tell me about this 'Edward'?"_

I gave him a harsh stare for interrupting my ranting. After a few moments I dropped my head back into this journal and ignored him.

He kept continuing to try and pry me open, split apart my seams and dissect me like an insect on a Petri dish.

I would _not _give him any information; it felt like betraying _him _and the memories were they to be tainted by this man who calls himself a therapist.

Dr. Smiley found out nothing, and Charlie keeps giving me helpless glances out of the corner of his eyes.

'_Watch the road!' _I want to screech, _'Stop smothering me! I want to be left alone!' _

But I don't, I keep quiet and stare out the front windshield absently, feeling completely alone, as always.

**_Yeah. So. This is a bit more OOC, I think. I was surprised that a person said I was IN CHARACTER! (gasp). But that's pretty rad, I guess. Ha, I sound really bored right now. I am. _**

**_-Mickey.. :D_**


	4. January 27

_Whoot. Thanks for the reviews! :)_

_Motivation rocks my invisible socks off... which I've misplaced somewhere._

_Disclaimer: One day I will clone Stephanie Meyer and rule the world. But until then, I still - sadly - do not own Twilight. :(_

_**January 27**_

Is it possible to keep living when you no longer have a heart, when your soul – your meaning for existing - is gone?

_He _always said he never had a soul, that he lost it as soon as he became one of the damned, when he first tasted bloods' poison.

But when you _feel _things, like love and happiness, even anger - that means you have a soul.

You have to have a soul to feel things.

Even James had a soul, despite how worn and weak it was. He was able to feel love and confidence, arrogance and anger, and the bitter thrill of victory.

I have no soul. I can't feel anything.

Or maybe my soul is hiding away in the dark corners of my being, locked away in thick metal bars, too weak of will to fight anymore. Too battered to care.

I'm not well today - Charlie calls it a 'bad day'.

I stared at my ceiling, not sure if was sleeping or awake, alive or dead.

Was I still even here?

My bacon has gone cold – the only thing that Charlie can cook. I hadn't even realized he'd made anything, I didn't even know he came in my room.

I'm not hungry though, I don't know if my stomach eats food anymore, maybe it's satiated with devouring my soul?

There are no hunger pains that I know of – only the constant ache in my chest. That might be my soul trying to escape from the caverns of my mind, begging for release.

Or death.

_No!_

I could never do that to Charlie or Renee. I've got to stop being selfish for once.

But it's just so _hard._

**_Ok, my peeps. How was that? Sorry if I used the word 'SOUL' too much, I'm just trying to get my point across (nods head seriously)._**

**_- Mickey.. :D_**


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